Arkham Audited
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Due to lack of funds, a new initiative from the mayor's office turns Arkham Asylum into a tourist attraction, where people can pay to stare at the supercriminals in their cells. Needless to say, this doesn't end well.
1. Chapter 1

**Arkham Audited**

It was days like these that Dr. Leland hated the most.

Of course every day in Arkham Asylum was not one to look forward to – hardly a day went by without a fatal accident of some kind, or a mass breakout, or in-fighting among the inmates. But despite all the violence and chaos that went along with those things, they were better than her meeting days.

As head doctor of Arkham Asylum, Dr. Joan Leland had an obligation to meet with important officials in Gotham – the mayor, the police commissioner, and various other busybodies who would try to stick their nose in her business by suggesting improvements to Arkham. Dr. Leland certainly believed improvements were needed, but she seriously doubted that elected officials and bureaucrats knew better than her what they were. Nevertheless, she was forced to take their ideas on board, no matter how ludicrous they were, and as Arkham continued to fail to reform the criminals sent to it, the more ridiculous those ideas grew.

Dr. Leland wondered to herself what the latest stroke of genius to reform the inmates would be as she shook hands and smiled politely while the mayor and his cronies greeted her. She had heard everything from mandatory team sports, to mandatory dancing instruction, and she wouldn't be surprised if this time, the suggestion was something like a mandatory fun run through Gotham. There was no way that could end badly.

"I'm very eager to hear your suggestions for improvements," said Dr. Leland, in what she hoped was a sincere voice.

"Well, frankly, Dr. Leland, that's not what we're here to talk about," said the mayor. "I think you'll agree that we've all been very patient and resourceful in our efforts to bring about some real change and reform in the inmates here."

"Yes, resourceful is the word," agreed Dr. Leland, nodding.

"And yet, despite our numerous best efforts, Arkham continues to be a revolving door prison for the worst and most dangerous of humanity," continued the mayor. "Reform largely doesn't seem to work, and security is a persistent and unending problem."

"You don't have to tell me, Mr. Mayor," said Dr. Leland. "But frankly, I can't get the employees to work here to improve security. With Arkham's reputation, this establishment can't attract anyone willing to work here, unless they're suicidal."

"Or potential lunatics themselves, as we saw with Dr. Quinzel," said the mayor, nodding.

"Yes, exactly," muttered Dr. Leland, through gritted teeth. People never stopped blaming her for Harley going insane, even though she had tried her best to keep her away from the Joker. Although she supposed ultimately she had hired her, and let her interview him, so maybe she was somewhat responsible. "But you see my point," she continued. "I don't know what anyone can do to improve the security situation without anyone willing to work here."

"Frankly, Dr. Leland, we didn't actually come here to discuss improvements," said the mayor. "Or rather, not to add new ones. You see, all these improvements in initiatives and in security have cost this city and its taxpayers an incredible amount of money. You can go over the figures yourself, if you like," he said, gesturing to his accountant.

"No, I believe you," said Dr. Leland. "And I'm sorry to keep having to take their money, but you can't be suggesting we should just let these people out to roam the streets?"

"No, I am not," said the mayor. "I'm suggesting that Arkham starts to pay for itself."

Dr. Leland stared at him. "How, exactly?" she asked, slowly. "We're a hospital, sir – we don't have any way of making money…"

"Indeed you do," interrupted the mayor. "You have the greatest supercriminals the world has ever known all under one roof. Don't you think people would pay to see them?"

"I'm…sorry, I must be misunderstanding you," said Dr. Leland. "Are you suggesting we turn this hospital for the mentally ill into a zoo, where people can pay and stare at the inmates like animals?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting," said the mayor, nodding. "It's obvious that the inmates are not going to improve – how many times have you tried and failed to cure the Joker, for instance? But even if he won't be helped, he can still be useful."

"By being put on display in a freak show?" asked Dr. Leland.

"Oh, it won't be as tasteless as that," said the mayor, waving his hand. "Although we will need to hire tour guides, or at least put up plaques explaining who everyone is and what their crimes are, in case the public is unfamiliar with some of the lesser known villains. They'll have set viewing times when they're not in therapy, but otherwise, things should continue as normal. You're still operating a hospital and giving therapy, but you're also contributing, and giving back to the people of Gotham City."

"And…what happens if there's a security problem when some of the tourists are here?" asked Dr. Leland. "And some of them get hurt? After the inevitable lawsuits and litigation, won't that end up costing everyone more money than if we just didn't do this in the first place?"

"Well, perhaps a friendly, open-house situation will be more inviting for potential employees, thereby ultimately tightening security," said the mayor. "Maybe with more foot traffic in here, more people will be willing to work here, once they get to know the inmates."

"Um…getting to know the inmates usually doesn't make people want to spend more time with them," said Dr. Leland, slowly.

"Well, not in Dr. Quinzel's case," said the mayor.

"Yeah, but surely you don't want a repeat of that…" began Dr. Leland.

"This has already been discussed and decided, Dr. Leland," interrupted the mayor. "I understand your concerns, but frankly, we're out of money to give you, and the only other option is to shut this place down and send all the patients to Blackgate. And nobody wants that."

"No, especially not the Blackgate convicts," muttered Dr. Leland. "Joker would kill half of them for fun…"

"We'll be starting the new initiative next week," said the mayor. "My office will be taking care of the details – your only job is telling the inmates what's going on, and making sure they behave themselves during viewing hours."

"Oh, that's all," said Dr. Leland, hopefully not too sarcastically. "Lucky me. They're just going to love this."


	2. Chapter 2

"What is this, group therapy?" demanded the Joker, as he entered the room and looked around. The rest of the inmates currently incarcerated in Arkham Asylum were all gathered in Dr. Leland's office. "Because I don't do group therapy! If you try and make me do group therapy, somebody's not gonna get outta here with all their limbs, probably Nygma!"

"Why me?" demanded Edward Nygma.

"Because you're closest," retorted Joker, taking the seat next to him.

"It's not group therapy, Joker," said Dr. Leland. "It's a little announcement I have to make as soon as everyone gets here."

Joker whistled, looking around. "There sure are a lot of us incarcerated right now. Nygma, Tetchy, Craney, Harvey, Croc…don't tell me nobody's organized any kinda breakout?"

"God, please don't," sighed Dr. Leland. "That would be the final nail in the coffin."

"What coffin?" asked Killer Croc, puzzled. "Who's died?"

"Nobody's died – it's just an expression, you idiotic reptile," retorted Nygma.

"Here Croc, trade seats with me," said Joker, standing up. "You can bite off his limbs, and I'll terrorize somebody else."

"Sit down, Joker," snapped Dr. Leland. "Nobody is terrorizing anyone. At least, not if you don't want to end up in Blackgate."

"We can't be sent to Blackgate – we're mentally ill," said Jervis Tetch.

"And the nerds would never survive," said Joker, nodding. "They'd be eaten alive by the hardened thugs. Probably literally."

"Whatever happened to get us all called in here, it wasn't me who did it," announced Poison Ivy, as she and Harley Quinn were led into the office.

"Nobody's done anything, Pamela – please have a seat," said Dr. Leland. "Now that we're all here, I need to inform you all of a new initiative from the mayor's office."

"Please be nothing athletic," muttered Jonathan Crane.

"It's nothing athletic," agreed Dr. Leland, and Crane, Tetch, and Nygma all breathed a sigh of relief. "The mayor says…the city doesn't have the money to keep us running anymore."

"They're gonna shut us down?" asked Two-Face.

"A man of my IQ can't survive in Blackgate!" exclaimed Nygma.

"They won't separate me from puddin'!" shrieked Harley Quinn, who had seated herself in Joker's lap and was now clinging to him.

"They're not shutting us down, and none of you are going to Blackgate," retorted Dr. Leland. "Yet," she added. "The mayor wants us to start earning money ourselves, and to do that…he's going to open Arkham to the public, who will be able to pay to see its notorious inmates."

"You mean like a freak show?" asked Tetch. "How very Victorian. And not in a good way. The only way we should be going back to Victorian times is in literature and fashion."

"The mayor has assured me that it will be as dignified as possible," said Dr. Leland.

"How dignified can it be to have people stare at you in a cage all day, like an animal?" demanded Crane. "The whole idea is utterly humiliating."

"You know how in zoos, you got that one monkey who flings its feces at the crowd?" asked Joker. "That's what I'll be doing."

"No, you won't," snapped Dr. Leland. "You're all going to behave. Because if you don't, they really will shut this place down, and you're going to have to go to Blackgate. And good luck getting away with half the stuff you get away with here."

"I am not letting a bunch of men pay money to stare at me all day!" snapped Ivy. "That's voyeurism, and it's creepy and non-consensual!"

"Yeah, what if me and Mr. J wanna have playtime?" demanded Harley. "We need privacy!"

"Let 'em watch," said Joker, shrugging. "If they're scarred for life, that's a good lesson for 'em not to spy on people."

"I ain't letting people watch us!" snapped Harley. "Once people see how good a lover you are, everyone's gonna want you!"

"While I seriously doubt that will happen, we'll have scheduled visiting hours," said Dr. Leland. "Outside of those, your time is your own. And we'll still have private therapy sessions, of course – the last thing I want is for your privacy to be invaded when I'm trying to help you heal."

"As a former psychiatrist, I object to this whole venture," said Crane. "It's not going to help anyone heal. If anything, it'll make us even more neurotic thinking we're being watched all the time. Plus making money from a hospital is the most unethical idea I've heard in a long time. You can't seriously be thinking about implementing this, Dr. Leland – doesn't your professional sense of ethics bother you at all?"

"Of course it does!" snapped Dr. Leland. "Frankly, I think it's the worst idea they've come up with in a long time, but I don't have a choice here! If I refuse, they shut us down, I'm out of a job, and worse, you're all thrown into prison with regular convicts. I can't do that to you, so I'm willing to bend my professional ethics for you."

"Good for you, Joan," said Harley, nodding as she adjusted herself on Joker's lap. "Professional ethics are overrated."

"Well, I think it's a great idea," spoke up Two-Face. Everyone turned to stare at him. "The coin landed good side up," he explained, holding it up. "So now I think it's a good idea, when before I thought it was probably the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard."

"Well, I for one am not going along with it!" said Ivy, standing up. "I'm busting outta here, and not subjecting myself to it!"

There was a general murmur of agreement throughout the room. "Ok, but if you do that, we're still out of money," said Dr. Leland. "Nobody's going to pay if nobody's here, which means we're still getting shut down. And when Batman captures you all again, which he inevitably will, he's sending you to Blackgate."

"Y'know, I'm actually with Harvey," said Joker. "I think it'll be a laugh riot. There's all sorts of jokes I can do in front of an audience."

"Nothing violent, Joker," said Dr. Leland.

"I'm shocked that you would leap to that conclusion, Doc," said Joker, in mock offense. "Why do you assume that all my jokes have to be violent?"

"Because they always are," retorted Dr. Leland. "That's kinda your thing."

"No, not just violence," said Joker. "There's also insults and various forms of emotional abuse. I'm a man of many talents."

"Do you honestly think the yokels of Gotham City will pay money to see us?" demanded Nygma. "And furthermore, pay enough to run this hospital? I think you overestimate our popularity."

"I think she's certainly overestimating yours," retorted Joker. "Are we gonna charge different prices for each of us? Have like a Z-list price, with losers like Nygma and Tetchy, and then gradually go up to A-list, platinum tickets for yours truly?"

"That's not up to me," replied Dr. Leland. "The mayor said his office is handling everything, so I assume that includes prices. He said it included plaques and tour guides too."

"I don't need a plaque or a tour guide!" snapped Joker. "My reputation precedes me! There's not gonna be anyone coming in here who doesn't know who I am – I can't speak for the rest of you."

"You know this is gonna end badly, right?" asked Ivy. "People are awful. If you give them license to treat us like animals in a zoo, then that's what they'll do. All the pointing and banging on the glass and hooting is fine for dumb animals, but it's not how I'm going to be treated!"

"I wish you would stop insulting animals, Ivy," said Croc. "It's a little close to home for me."

"Look, you don't like it, and I don't like it, but we have to do this, so let's just agree to get through it as painlessly as possible," said Dr. Leland. "I'm sure somebody is going to wake up and realize how stupid this is before long, and then things can go back to normal. But in the meantime, things are going to carry on as usual. These are just temporary changes which can easily be reversed. This is still a hospital first and foremost, and that's all it always will be."

There was a knock on the door. "Hi, Dr. Leland, we've been sent over from the mayor's office," said a workman, entering the room. "He wants to know which of these offices you wanna convert into the gift shop."

"Oooh, if we have merchandise, I want a cut of that!" exclaimed Joker. "I want my face on T-shirts, mugs, cushions – people should be wearing it, drinking out of it, or sitting on it."

"I'll sit on your face, puddin'," purred Harley.

"Nobody is sitting on anyone's face!" snapped Dr. Leland. "And nobody is getting a cut of any merchandise!"

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's illegal, using our images without permission," said Joker.

"I'm pretty sure this whole business is illegal!" exclaimed Ivy. "Whatever happened to human rights?!"

"You lost 'em when you became a plant," retorted Joker.

"Shut up, J!" snapped Ivy, lunging toward him. She was intercepted by Harley.

"Calm down, Red…" she began.

"Calm down?!" shrieked Ivy. "Am I the only one who thinks this whole situation is completely unacceptable?!"

"Everyone thinks it's unacceptable, Pamela, but we don't have a choice!" snapped Dr. Leland. "Unless you can think of some way to fund this hospital yourself, or have an enormous source of wealth stashed away somewhere that we can use! I'm sorry about this, really, I am! Please believe that I am just as upset, outraged, and furious as any of you. But I'm also completely powerless to do anything about it."

"What about Bruce Wayne?" asked Two-Face. "He gives a lot to this facility, and he's a good pal of mine who wouldn't want us humiliated. Have you asked him about increasing his donation?"

"To run this entire hospital, he'd have to increase his donation about five hundred percent," retorted Dr. Leland. "It would cost more than any one person can reasonably pay for, even a billionaire."

"So what you're saying is, we need to prove to the people of Gotham City that we're worth funding with their tax money?" asked Joker, with a smile. "This whole thing is an opportunity to put on a show, a show that will convince the people of Gotham that our treatment is worth paying for, so that they'll demand the city reverses its decision and makes room for us in its budget?"

Dr. Leland was silent. "If you can find some way of making that happen that doesn't involve violence, then yes." She sighed. "I never thought I'd say this, Joker, but please put on a show."


	3. Chapter 3

"So what's the plan, J?" asked Two-Face, as all the inmates gathered in the Rec Room later. "You said we were going to put on some sort of show."

"Yep, but I don't think any of you are going to like it," said Joker.

"I think most of us enjoy a little theatricality – otherwise we wouldn't dress up in costumes," pointed out Tetch, and the others murmured their agreement.

"Yeah, but this ain't gonna be fun acting for anyone," said Joker. "As far as I can see, there's only one way to make everything go back to normal. We have to all pretend to be cured. If we're cured, there's no fun in coming to see us, or watching us, if we're not doing anything interesting. Basically, we're all going to have to act like normal people, because nobody would pay to watch normal people."

There was stunned silence. "But…how do normal people act?" asked Croc, slowly.

"Well, that's the tricky thing, Croc old boy," said Joker. "You see, each of us has a persona, an identity, but in order to act like normal people, we have to conceal that identity and blend in with a crowd. So whatever makes us stand out is the thing we have to repress. Like me being hysterically funny – when the audience comes in, I have to resist the urge to send insulting jokes their way, and not be entertaining in the slightest. In your case, Croc, people will probably want to see your animal savagery, so you gotta hide that. Maybe borrow some books from the nerds and just spout out random intellectual soundbites instead. You can read, right?"

"Mostly," agreed Croc. "At least, I could. It's been a long time since I tried."

"Now, for Craney, no scaring people," said Joker, turning to him. "Not even a little. You just sit quietly in your cell and do nothing. Don't even look at people, because your face will probably scare them because it's so ugly. Same goes for you, Tetchy," he said, turning to Tetch. "Also, lose the hat, and no poetry or tea parties."

"But…but…whatever will I do to pass the time?" stammered Tetch.

"Nothing," retorted Joker. "We all have to be hugely boring so nobody will pay to see us. Eddie, no riddles," he said, addressing Nygma.

"But if there's an audience, I have to prove I'm smarter than all of them by stumping them with a perplexing conundrum…" began Nygma.

"No, you don't," retorted Joker. "You have to button your yap. You have to just sit quietly and resist the opportunity to show off. I know that's asking a lot."

He turned to Two-Face. "You lose the duality thing. Whatever you do, don't flip the coin."

"But what if I have a decision to make?" demanded Two-Face. "And everything in my cell is divided evenly along the good side and the bad side…"

"So mess it up," interrupted Joker. "There's not much we can do about your face, but your actions are going to be normal and dull so once the morbid fascination with your appearance wears off, everyone will be bored of you. Same goes for you, Weed Lady," he said, turning to Ivy. "God knows why anyone would wanna stare at you, but I guess some people find you attractive. There's nothing we can do about that, since to mutilate you would encourage the same morbid fascination as Harvey's face, but if you're nothing but another pretty face, you're nothing that exotic. So lose the plants."

"I will do no such thing!" snapped Ivy. "I'm not going along with your stupid idea!"

"You can't tell me I'm wrong!" snapped Joker. "People are gonna pay to see us as infamous criminals – if we don't act like infamous criminals, people are not gonna pay!"

"They'll probably get bored of us eventually anyway," retorted Ivy. "I mean, how fascinating can we be?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm endlessly entertaining," retorted Joker. "My creators wanted to kill me off in my second appearance, but changed their minds because I was too good a character to kill off."

"What creators? What are you talking about?" asked Ivy, puzzled.

"Never mind – you don't get the joke," muttered Joker. "Look, if people eventually get bored of us, and we just suddenly stop being profitable, the city will shut us down. But if they think Dr. Leland's made some progress with us by rehabilitating us into normal, productive members of society, then they'll have to keep Arkham open because it's worth the money. It's the only way to get outta this situation without being sent to Blackgate. And good luck getting to keep your plants in there! They don't call it the green mile because you get to garden, y'know!"

Ivy glared at him. "I guess…I can plant them in the garden until after this is over," she muttered.

"And you, pooh, have the hardest job of all," said Joker, turning to Harley. "You gotta repress your one obsession."

"No!" gasped Harley. "No, puddin', you can't mean…"

"I do," he said, nodding. "You gotta pretend like…"

"Don't say it!" cried Harley.

"You don't love me anymore," finished Joker.

Harley let out a sob. "No, I can't do it!" she shrieked. "Not even as a joke!"

"Harley, you gotta pretend to be over me," he said, taking her by the shoulders. "For all our sakes. This doesn't work unless we all work together – believe me, if there was another way, I'd never work with this bunch of painfully unfunny jokes on humanity."

"I think it'll be good for you, Harley," spoke up Ivy. "Maybe if you pretend you're over J long enough, you might actually end up getting over him."

"Never!" cried Harley, clinging to him. "I won't deny my feelings for you, puddin'! You can't ask me to do that!"

"Harley, I'm the fixation of your obsessive madness," said Joker. "If people think you're over that, then they'll think you're well on your way to being cured. This is the only way, don't you understand that? Or we'll be sent to Blackgate and you'll have to go to the women's section, and I'll have to go to the men's, and we'll be separated."

"So the choice is…pretend I don't love you and get to stay here with you, or…stay true to my feelings and be parted forever," murmured Harley.

"Well, probably not forever – you'll likely be breaking out at some point," pointed out Tetch.

"Hey, from what I hear, Blackgate's kinda a security nightmare," said Joker. "Have you ever heard about Bane breaking outta there? And he's Bane – the guy can punch through walls for fun, but he couldn't punch through those ones. And Penguin had to go legitimate before he could get outta there. And now you should see how careful he is when committing crimes like tax evasion, or smuggling contraband – he's terrified of being caught and dragged back there. I mean, I'm sure I could break outta it, because there ain't been a jail yet that can hold the Joker, but why cause unnecessary work for myself?"

"Puddin', I can't!" sobbed Harley. "I can't have my cell all bare with no pictures of you everywhere! I can't have people asking me about you and telling them that I don't care about you anymore! I don't have the strength to do that!"

Joker suddenly slapped her across the face. "Yes, you do!" he snapped. "Now get ahold of yourself! Dammit, Harl, I've beaten you enough times that I know you're strong enough to deal with anything! Don't make me prove it to you by beating you some more!"

"Joker's touching casual abuse aside, I'm afraid to admit he might be right," sighed Crane. "Acting boring, ie normal, is the only way for people to simultaneously lose interest and yet see Arkham as vital. We'll all be bored out of our skulls, of course, but I just don't see another alternative. Hopefully this will only be for a short while."

"I have a question," snapped Nygma. "Why are _you_ going along with this, Joker? You aren't a team player, we all know that, and surely nothing would be funnier for you than to screw us over by making us suffer acting normal, and then ruin everything by being your usual, over-the-top, violent self. How do we know you won't mess everything up as you always do?"

"Because he doesn't want us to be parted forever!" exclaimed Harley.

"No, Harley, nobody is gonna buy that," retorted Joker. "To be honest with all of you, I think this is an opportunity for a great joke on the people of Gotham, to ruin their expectations of what notorious supercriminals are like. They're paying good money to see the Joker acting all crazy, and I'm gonna be laughing inwardly at their disappointed faces when they see how normal I can be. It's also a challenge to my genius – am I so talented that I can actually convince everyone that the Joker can act like a sane person? And I'm going to show you that the answer is yes – I'm just that incredible. Plus it'll be quite a joke on everyone when they think I'm cured, and then I just go back to my normal violent ways. You could say it's two jokes for the price of one, when screwing you guys over, while hilarious, would only be one joke, and a fairly predictable one at that. It would have to be, for Nygma to think of it."

"Well, he's right – if we do this, we all have to do this together," said Ivy, nodding. "And we all know how supervillain cooperation usually ends, but this time has gotta be different. This time we all actually have to do our part without screwing anyone else over. That's gonna be a challenge for me, I can tell you."

There was a murmur of agreement from the room. "Well…to honor among thieves?" asked Tetch, holding out his hand.

Everyone was silent, and then slowly added their hands on top of his. "Puddin', joy buzzer," snapped Harley, as Joker was about to add his hand.

"Yes, I was going to remove it, Harley," snapped Joker. "Anyway, it only would have shocked you, and that doesn't count."

"I'm…gonna miss…being shocked by you, puddin'!" sobbed Harley, suddenly bursting into tears.

Two- Face rolled his eyes. "Oh, this is gonna last," he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "What could possibly go wrong?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you quite sure about this, sir?" asked Alfred, as he drove Bruce Wayne toward Arkham Asylum.

"No," retorted Bruce. "But I think as a patron of Arkham, I have to see what exactly is going on in there, don't you?"

"Whatever it is, sir, I expect it's not going to be pleasant," said Alfred. "I can't imagine what the mayor is thinking, let alone the inmates. There's undoubtedly going to be some sort of riot."

"Which is why Batman needs to be on hand," said Bruce, nodding. "I know the Arkham inmates, and they're all completely unstable. Their reaction to this enforced viewing will certainly be violent and aggressive, because that's their reaction to everything. But honestly, I'm kinda on their side with this one. It's a terrible idea to charge admission to see mental patients, like some kinda freak show. I thought we'd moved beyond that."

"In my experience, sir, when money's involved, people tend to forget their morality," replied Alfred.

"Well, that's true," sighed Bruce. "And I imagine the Arkham inmates will be quite the draw. Some people seem to be incomprehensibly fascinated by the insane and the criminal."

"Yes. Fortunately we don't know anyone like that," said Alfred, in a sardonic tone.

Bruce smiled, but this fell as Alfred pulled up in front of the gates to Arkham Asylum, which were almost invisible in the heaving sea of people surrounding them.

"Boy, it's quite a turnout," commented Bruce to Dr. Leland, as he somehow managed to wade through the mass of people to reach the front doors.

"Yes, it's a nightmare," muttered Dr. Leland. "I don't like this, Mr. Wayne. Not at all. I hate crowds – they're too quick to turn into angry mobs, and the last thing I want is an angry mob around the patients. Something is bound to go terribly wrong, and someone is bound to get hurt."

"I've told you, Dr. Leland, they're all in an orderly line," said the mayor, who was standing next to her.

"Really? Because I don't see it," said Bruce, looking out at the completely disorganized crowd.

"I have people out there doing crowd control," said the mayor. "People are going to be let in in the order they arrived, rather than just forcing their way in when the doors open. We're taking them in in groups of twenty, who will accompany the tour guide on a twenty minute tour around the asylum, ending in the gift shop."

"Gift shop?" repeated Bruce.

"Yes, please do have one of our T-shirts free of charge, Mr. Wayne, and wear it for the press after the tour," said the mayor, handing him a shirt. "It'll be excellent publicity."

Bruce stared at the shirt, which read _I Survived Arkham Asylum_ , and featured the faces of the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Two-Face, and Killer Croc. "Those inmates polled the best in our popularity contest survey," explained the mayor.

"Riddler will be upset," commented Bruce.

"You've really done your PR and marketing, Mr. Mayor," said Dr. Leland.

"Well, this venture does have to be profitable, Dr. Leland – I'm just trying to help you stay open," replied the mayor. "So let's make as much money for the city as possible today."

"Yes, let's," sighed Dr. Leland. "Forget curing people, let's sell, sell, sell."

"All right, everyone, you'll be let in one at a time!" called the mayor into a megaphone. "Please have your tickets ready."

Bruce followed the first twenty people through the doors. They were a terrifying sight, clearly fans of the inmates – a couple of overweight men had Harley and Ivy on their shirts, while one young woman had painted her face to match the Joker's. Bruce couldn't actually believe these psychopaths had fans, but he supposed nothing should surprise him about Gotham anymore. Still, it made him angry after all the time he spent defending the city from these monsters that people should venerate them. If he did get a chance to go into Batman mode on the tour, he would definitely be having a stern chat with them.

"Everyone please follow me – my name is Brad and I'll be your tour guide today," said the thin, bespectacled man who stood in front of the group. "A few rules before we begin – photography is allowed, but please make sure your flash is off. If you have any questions for me, please hold them until the end of the tour. And please follow closely, and don't wander off. This is a working hospital, and we don't want to get in any of the doctors' way. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"Is it true that Arkham is haunted by the ghost of Amadeus Arkham?" asked one woman, shooting her hand up.

"Uh…if you believe in that, sure," said the tour guide. "Now everyone follow me, please. Arkham Asylum, or as it's formally called, The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, first began construction in 1852, some say on the remains of an Indian burial ground…"

Bruce tuned out the tour, looking around at the admittedly impressive transformation of Arkham in such a short space of time. There were barriers along the path so that nobody could wander off, and as they approached the first cell, Killer Croc's, Bruce saw that they had put up a sign. It mostly read what the tour guide was explaining – Croc's real name, origin, and list of offenses. There was even a smaller sign for children with a cartoon doctor on it with a speech bubble which read _Killer Croc can eat up to his weight in raw chickens every day! Can you guess how many chickens that is?_

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Waylon Jones is more animal than man," finished the tour guide, and Bruce glanced into the cell to see Croc sitting by the edge of his tank, shockingly reading a book.

"Uh…Croc, won't you say something for the crowd?" asked the tour guide, equally shocked at the scene before him.

Croc looked up. "The square of the hippopotamus is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides."

"Not hippopotamus – hypotenuse, you ignorant fool!" snapped Riddler from his cell.

"That's what I said," retorted Croc.

"Uh…we'll just see if he's ready for feeding time," said the tour guide, glancing around at the confused faces of the group. "How many chickens do we think he can eat?"

"A hundred!" shouted a child.

"More like two hundred," said one of the overweight men, snapping a picture as attendants dumped a huge bucket of raw chicken into the cell.

Croc merely looked at them, and then went back to reading. "Aren't you…hungry, Croc?" asked the tour guide.

"Nah, not right now – this book is really engrossing," said Croc. "Who needs food when you've got food for the mind, am I right?"

The group shared confused looks and disappointed murmurings. "Moving on, here's the Riddler, reportedly the most intelligent man in Gotham, according to himself," said the tour guide, heading over to Nygma's cell. "Do you have a riddle for us, Riddler?"

Bruce watched as Riddler took a deep breath – he looked like he was going to explode. Then he let the breath out slowly. "No," he said, simply. "I don't."

"But…don't you want to prove you're the smartest man in Gotham?" pressed the guide. "How do we know I'm not smarter than you, for instance, unless you can stump me with a riddle?"

Riddler took another deep breath, his face reddening before he finally let it out. "I…don't have to prove that I'm smarter than you," he replied. "I don't actually care…if I'm not."

The last sentence Riddler spat out as if he were in actual pain, but he didn't say anything else, sitting still in his cell. The audience began murmuring again, and the tour guide moved them swiftly on.

"Speaking of eggheads, we've got the Mad Hatter, a man who invented a way to control people's minds," said the tour guide. "He's obsessed with the Lewis Carroll stories – can you give us some quotes, Jervis?"

"I'm afraid…I don't remember any quotes," said Tetch, with much effort.

"What?" asked the tour guide.

"I said, I've…forgotten all the quotes," continued Tetch. "Terribly sorry. But the therapy I've received here has been…wonderful in curing my obsession in that way. I couldn't recite a poem if I tried."

"What about your Alice?" asked the tour guide.

Tetch gritted his teeth, forcing a smile. "What Alice?" he asked. "If you're referring to…Miss Pleasance…therapy has…killed my love for her."

By this time, the crowd's disappointment was growing more audible. Bruce was beyond confused, but as they hurried along to the next cell, he saw Tetch cringing in pain at what he had just said. Bruce knew this all had to be some sort of act, but why?

"Here is the Scarecrow, the man obsessed with fear," said the tour guide. "Can you tell us why you want to frighten people, Professor Crane?"

"I…don't want to frighten anyone," said Crane through clenched teeth. "Not anymore. I've been cured of that, thanks to the treatments here."

"But…what about your childhood bullying?" asked the guide.

Crane forced a smile. "What childhood bullying?" he asked. "I've completely forgotten all about that."

"Let me remind you – you were horribly beaten up every day just for being different," snapped the guide. "You sustained serious injury, including broken bones, and suffered perpetual terror every day of your life."

"I cannot recall that at all," replied Crane casually, although Bruce saw his hands shaking.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded the other overweight man. "We came here to see violent, messed up criminals, not these boring people!"

"Well, you're in luck, because here's Two-Face, a violent man who decides to kill people with a flip of a coin!" exclaimed the guide. "Where's your coin, Harvey?"

"What coin?" asked Two-Face, looking up at him.

"The coin you flip to decide everything," snapped the guide.

"Oh yeah, that," said Two-Face. "I don't need that anymore. I can make decisions on my own, thanks to my therapy here. I even made the decision to return my cell to normal," he said, gesturing around. Bruce was surprised to see that rather than the usual divide, Two-Face's cell was randomly organized like a normal person.

"So it doesn't bother you if someone just throws a random item onto the floor," said the guide, opening the slit in the cell for food and tossing in a coin. "Especially not a coin."

"Nope," said Two-Face, not even looking at the coin. "I've realized I can't use the coin to avoid taking responsibility for my actions anymore. And once I've realized that, I don't need it."

The crowd was getting more vocal. "Sure, he's ugly, but if I wanted to see pictures of gross faces, I could have stayed at home and found them on the internet!" shouted a man. "Make with the crazy already!"

The crowd shouted their agreement and began booing the tour guide. Desperate, he hurried over to Poison Ivy's cell, and the two overweight men cheered. "Finally!" they exclaimed. "The hot chicks!"

One of the men shoved the guide out of the way before he could introduce her. "Hey, Ivy, you wanna let a real man into your garden?" he asked, knocking on the glass.

Ivy looked up from where she had been staring at the floor. "Isn't that cute?" she muttered. "Typical man, making a sexually suggestive comment to an attractive woman. Not that that bothers me anymore."

"C'mon, baby, do something!" shouted the other one. "Threaten to kill us with a kiss, or strangle us with a plant!"

"I would never act so barbarically," replied Ivy. "I'm a calm, rational lady who just wants everyone to get along. We can only save the planet, and the earth, through peace."

Bruce saw her nearly choke on the sentence, but she remained calm, which aroused his grudging admiration. He knew how hard that must be for her under the circumstances. He turned to see Harley's cell opposite Ivy's, and started back in surprise.

He had seen Harley's cell hundreds of times, and it was always covered in pictures of the Joker. But now it was completely bare, with no sign of the Joker anywhere. Harley sat like the others, looking down firmly at the floor.

"Harley?" asked Bruce, approaching her.

"Oh my God, Harley Quinn, now there's a psycho hot chick!" exclaimed a man, racing over to her. "What kinda sick things do you do with the clown, baby? Tell us all about 'em!"

"What clown?" asked Harley, looking up.

"God, you are a dumb blonde – the Joker, stupid!" shouted the man.

Bruce saw Harley physically cringe, but she managed to stammer out, "I…I don't love the Joker anymore."

The crowd rushed over, gasping in disbelief. "Oh my God, they've actually cured her!" gasped a woman. "It's a miracle!"

"He's…he's an abusive monster who…doesn't love me," choked out Harley. "I was stupid to have…fallen for his jokes and games all these years. From now on, I'm…I'm…" She shut her eyes. "Strong and independent and free of…that horrible clown."

Bruce saw how painful it was for Harley to say that, and he still didn't understand why. The crowd looked about to riot. "She's just like everyone else now – she's boring!" exclaimed one of the men. "Who wants to see just another strong, independent chick?"

"Don't worry, ladies and gentlemen, we have our piece de resistance still to come!" exclaimed the guide, hurrying over to the final cell. "Ladies and gentlemen, a man who never disappoints an audience, the Clown Prince of Crime himself – the Joker!"

Everyone stared at the Joker, who was sitting in the lotus position in his cell, his eyes shut and calmly meditating. He opened his eyes and smiled at them all, bowing slightly. "Namaste," he said.

"What the hell is he doing?" demanded someone.

"I think it's yoga," said another.

"Joker, I'm your biggest fan!" shrieked the girl in the Joker makeup, throwing herself against the glass. "I love everything about you, especially your twisted sense of humor and how you don't take anything seriously because everything is one big joke!"

"The path to enlightenment is no joke," said Joker, shutting his eyes again. "It's a deeply serious spiritual journey which I have embarked upon, thanks to my treatment here. From now on, I will no longer play the fool, but be the wise man who seeks to teach others. And my first lesson is that there is no sense in crime or violence. Humor should never come at the expense of others. Smile at your own self-improvement, never at the failure of others. Fun should be enjoyed, but only when balanced with hard work – that is the way to achieve the balance of yin and yang, and the way to reach true enlightenment. You should consider that, Mr. Wayne," he said, nodding at Bruce.

"Oh my God, what have they done to him?!" shrieked the girl. "They've messed up his brilliant mind somehow!"

"They've…cured him," stammered someone. "They've cured…all of them."

As Bruce watched, the mood of the crowd suddenly turned ugly. "We didn't come here to see a bunch of cured, normal people!" shouted someone. "We wanted to see insane freaks!"

"I spent almost two days in that line!" shouted another person. "And took two days off from my job! That's time I'll never get back!"

"This is a rip-off!" cried one of the overweight men, picking up the barrier and throwing it at the guide. And once the first object was thrown, the rest of the crowd descended into violence.

Bruce was about to change into Batman mode when the Arkham security guards, who were used to dealing with violent riots, descended on the crowd. Bruce watched as fighting, angry people were pulled apart, and through it all he saw Joker calmly changing from the lotus position into downward dog. Joker looked up at the group and allowed himself a little smile as they were dragged outside, shouting to the surrounding crowd that the whole thing was a rip-off, which stirred the waiting crowd up more. The police were hastily called as the mayor was dragged inside, and Arkham instantly locked down.

"Joker, I said no violence!" shouted Dr. Leland, approaching his cell.

"It actually wasn't him who started it, Dr. Leland," said Bruce. "None of the inmates did anything. That was the problem – the people rioted because the inmates were acting too normal."

"Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with people?" snapped Dr. Leland. "I'm damned if they're being unstable, and damned if they aren't!"

"I think it's quite the joke," said Joker, pulling himself back up from downward dog. "All the so-called normal people being violent just because a bunch of violent lunatics won't perform for them. Shows you just how easy it is to slip into insanity, doesn't it? Madness is just a single step over the edge, then gravity takes over, and then when you laugh, the world laughs with you!"

He began laughing hysterically, but Bruce couldn't help but feel that from now on, things at Arkham were only going to get worse.


	5. Chapter 5

"All right, great job, everyone!" exclaimed Joker, entering the Rec Room that evening to complete and utter chaos.

Killer Croc was wolfing down raw chickens, while Riddler was pacing the room and muttering, "Smarter than me?! Smarter than me?! I should have broken his puny little brain! Who'll be dead the moment I'm out of here, riddle me that?!"

Meanwhile, Tetch was rocking in a corner with his hat pulled down over his eyes and obsessively reciting Lewis Carroll poetry, while Crane appeared to be monologuing to no one in particular, declaiming, "I am the Master of Fear, the Lord of Despair, cower before me in witless terror! Scream hosannas of anguish to Scarecrow, the all powerful God of Fear!"

Two-Face was obsessively flipping his coin while rearranging the Rec Room into symmetrical halves, shouting to Riddler, "Stay on the bad side! Stay on the bad side!"

Ivy was using one hand to pet her plants, and one hand to punch the couch, shouting, "Sexually harass me, you pathetic little man! When I get out of here, I'm going to castrate you with a vine of thorns!"

And the moment he entered the room, Joker was instantly jumped upon by Harley Quinn, who began kissing him obsessively. "Oh God, puddin', it's been too long!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry for the naughty things I said today – I think your bad girl needs a punishment!"

"Nah, you did good, kid," said Joker, trying to pry her off him. "Everyone did good. The plan went off without a hitch. Ow! What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, as Harley spanked him.

"I've been wanting to do that since I saw you doing downward dog – I couldn't stop staring at your ass and fantasizing about it!" she gasped. "Now spank me too, Daddy!"

"Harley, not now!" he snapped, shoving her away.

"Push her over to the good side of the room!" shouted Two-Face. "And make her stay there while you stay on the bad side!"

"Good luck," retorted Joker. "Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate everyone on the great joke we pulled on those losers today. You should have seen their faces!" he chuckled.

"I doubt their stupid faces were worth what we had to endure!" snapped Ivy, glaring at him.

"Aw, did the poor plant lady have to listen to people saying mean things to her?" said Joker, in mock sympathy. "Why don't you grow a pair and learn that sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you?"

"My fist is gonna break your bones!" roared Ivy, launching herself at him. "Right after I rip off your pair!"

"Pam, no!" shouted Two-Face, trying to grab her. "Get back on the good side of the room! The good side!"

"Red, stop it!" shrieked Harley, managing to pull a furiously pummeling Ivy off Joker. "If anyone's gonna beat puddin', it's me, so he'll get in the mood!"

"What's wrong with all of you?" demanded Joker, looking around as he rose to his feet. "Didn't you hear me? We did a good job! The gag went off without a hitch! You should all be happy!"

"Happy? At being tortured?" demanded Crane.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Professor," snapped Joker. "Nobody tortured you! Not since high school, anyway."

"It's a form of cruel and unusual punishment, having to repress our identities," retorted Tetch.

"Having to deny my feelings for you is the worst kinda torture, puddin'," purred Harley, trying to grope him again.

She was seized by Two-Face, who pulled her over across some imaginary line, and snapped, "Stay on your side!"

"You idiots just take yourselves too seriously," sighed Joker, sitting down on the sofa. "If you'd just think of it as a joke or a game, you'd enjoy it all a lot more."

"I'm not doing it again!" snapped Ivy. "The next time someone bangs on the glass to harass me, my fist is going through it to stab them with the broken glass!"

Everyone loudly agreed with this. "Look, morons, this doesn't work unless we keep it up!" snapped Joker. Then he grinned. "Which is what she said!" he chuckled. Nobody else laughed. "Oh, c'mon, that's a funny joke!" he snapped. "Anyway, you don't wanna ruin the plan after just one day, do ya? If we want this to work, we gotta act like we really are cured, which means we're not allowed to relapse until we get the damn funding. So just man up and stop acting like a bunch of girls, which I know is challenging for everyone here."

"So that's the plan," said a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Dr. Leland standing there. "I was shocked when everyone told me you were all acting normal, but I knew there had to be a reason. It all makes sense now. To be honest, I didn't think any of you had it in you to deny your natures like that, even as an act for a little while. Maybe we are making some progress here after all."

"Wishful thinking, Doc," retorted Joker. "Anyway, it's a good plan, doncha think?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It was. But…I don't think it's gonna be possible from now on."

"Well, not if these losers don't play along," agreed Joker.

"It's not that," said Dr. Leland. She took a deep breath. "I've just come from a meeting with the mayor's office. To avoid…a situation like today from happening again…during viewing hours…the mayor wants you all to be incarcerated…in a room together."

Everyone stared at her. "What?" demanded Ivy.

"He thinks…you won't be able to resist baiting each other into acting crazy, which will avoid situations like today's dissatisfied customer riot," said Dr. Leland. "I told him it might result in an actual riot, but he didn't seem to care as long as it wasn't the visitors doing the rioting."

"Well, screw that!" shouted Ivy. "And screw this non-violent resistance plan! Let's go back to violent resistance!"

"And play right into their hands, Weed Lady?" demanded Joker. "No, thank you! I'm not giving them that satisfaction!"

"Joker, are you honestly saying you can refrain from tormenting us, especially when you have an eager and willing audience?" demanded Nygma.

"I can!" snapped Joker. "I can do anything! I mean, it'll be difficult, sure, but it was difficult for Harley to deny that she loved me today, and I'm better at everything than her."

"It was agony, puddin'!" sobbed Harley, throwing herself into his arms.

"God dammit, Harley, wrong side!" roared Two-Face, shoving her back.

"Don't you dare push me away from puddin'!" shrieked Harley, reaching for a chair and slamming it over Two-Face's head. He raised a fist to punch her when Ivy pulled her out of the way, and Two-Face's fist accidentally collided with her instead.

"Geez, Pam, I'm sorry…" he began, but she punched him in the face, knocking him back into a table which fell over onto Nygma's foot.

He howled in pain, shoving the table away and hitting Crane in the stomach with it, who instantly attacked Nygma in retaliation, shouting, "How dare you bully me?!"

He knocked Nygma back into Croc and his dinner, spilling chicken everywhere. Croc roared in fury, lifting Nygma up and throwing him against the wall.

"Stop the violence! Stop the violence!" shouted Joker, trying to separate everyone. "Yeesh, I never thought I'd say that," he muttered to himself. "It just feels all kindsa wrong…Pammie, off!" he roared, pinning her arms behind her back. "Now look, the plan goes ahead!" he snapped, glaring around at everyone. "We remain boring and normal for the audience! We do not let them think their insanity has influenced us one bit! We are going to show up the normal people by being less crazy than they are, or else this whole thing falls apart, and we'll end up being gawked at by paying customers forever! This is war, people! And there's never been a better joke than war! So we're all going to play along, or we're gonna do what people do with deserters during war, and kill 'em! Except deserters got shot, and my way of killing people won't be as quick and painless as that! But we are not surrendering to these bureaucrats and law-abiding citizens! If we do, everything we are and everything we've fought for through the years and years we've been terrorizing Gotham will all be for nought! I didn't become the Joker to be an incarcerated freak in a sideshow attraction – I became the Joker to be free to have a little fun! And dammit, I ain't giving that freedom up now! We fight Batman every night because we won't submit to being bullied by some upstart vigilante, or the law. And if we do any less to these crowds and elected officials, we become everything we hate. We become law-abiding citizens ourselves, trained to act in the way people expect us to. We will not be predictable, performing monkeys tamed into a routine for gawking guests – we will never submit to their tyranny like that! We will be the most boring and normal of people, because ironically, in this instance, that's how we maintain our freedom to be our true, insane selves. It would be funny if it weren't so pathetic. Oh, what the heck, I'll laugh anyway!"

He did, while everyone else remained silent. "That was a beautiful speech, puddin'!" purred Harley, throwing herself into his arms again.

Two-Face twitched, but forced a smile with great difficulty. "That's ok – who needs good sides and bad sides of the room anyway?" he asked. "It's silly to be bothered by disorganization like that. Normal people don't care about room symmetry, so I don't care about room symmetry."

"That's the spirit, Harvey!" exclaimed Joker. "Tell 'em to do their worst, Doc," he said, turning to Dr. Leland with a smile. "We ain't trained seals – we're just ordinary people. And we're gonna stay that way, even if the crowds tear down the asylum!"

"While I admire the sentiment, I'm really hoping they don't," muttered Dr. Leland, heading back to her office. "It wouldn't help our cash flow problem."


	6. Chapter 6

Bruce Wayne once again found himself standing in front of Arkham Asylum, and once again felt a feeling of incredible dread as he gazed upon the substantial crowd waiting to get in. He couldn't help but feel that this new idea was even worse than the last one, because he honestly couldn't see the inmates remaining calm all stuck in a room together. And he knew if they rioted, rather than the crowd, it would mean a lot more fatalities all round. So naturally Batman had to be on hand again.

This time, Dr. Leland accompanied him and the rest of the group of now fifty people into the asylum, muttering, "I have a bad feeling about this, Mr. Wayne."

"Join the club," said Bruce. "But you have guards on hand, right?"

"I have everyone in today," said Dr. Leland. "But honestly, I can't blame the inmates if they do riot. This is absolutely humiliating for them. They're still human beings, Mr. Wayne, and they don't deserve to be gawked and stared at like this. I mean, how would you like it if you had this irrepressible persona and were forced to hide it and act normal all the time?"

"Yeah…I don't know what that would be like," said Bruce, as he was led into what he recognized as the Rec Room. A series of velvet ropes had been set up between the crowd and the interior of the room, and into this interior were now led the Arkham inmates, to various murmurings, whispering, and pointing from the crowd.

The inmates all ignored them, calmly sitting down. Bruce watched as Harley looked as if she was about to sit down in Joker's lap, but managed to resist it, taking a seat next to him on the sofa instead. Bruce watched her whole body shake as her hands almost involuntarily strayed toward him. She suddenly stood up and took another seat at a table across the room next to Poison Ivy, who was flipping through a magazine.

After about two minutes of nobody speaking and nothing happening, Bruce could sense the rising tension in the crowd again. So could Dr. Leland, who suddenly said, "Well, how's everyone feeling today? Jervis, how are you?"

"Normal. Perfectly normal," replied Tetch. "Thank you for asking."

"What are you reading?" asked Dr. Leland. "More Lewis Carroll?"

"Uh…no, because I'm cured of that obsession," stammered Tetch. "This is a…sports magazine. See, it has an automobile on the cover," he said, holding it up. "I'm reading a story about something called NASCARA, which I assume is some sort of eye makeup."

"Actually, I think you'll find it's NASCAR, Jervis," said Nygma. "Not that I mean to correct you – I'm probably not any smarter than you are on this or any subject, but it's on the cover there."

"So it is," agreed Tetch. "Thank you for correcting me, Edward. I'm still new at these sporting things, but I find them terribly interesting. Sports like…um…croquet, with hedgehogs and flamingos."

"Forgive me for correcting you again, Jervis, but I don't believe that's how croquet is played," said Nygma.

"No, you're quite right, Edward," said Tetch. "Thank you for correcting me again – it's very helpful for me to learn when I've made a mistake, in order to improve myself. No, that croquet was from…a thing I don't like anymore. I meant of course to mention popular sports which I enjoy, such as…um…football. Which is naturally played by...kicking a ball…with your foot…"

"Yes, if I am granted a release from here, I would certainly like to join you in taking in a football match, Jervis," commented Crane. "Perhaps our local university football team…the…uh…"

He trailed off and his face fell as panic entered his eyes. "You used to work at the university, Jonathan – you should probably know," commented Nygma. "Not that I'm chastising you for your ignorance, because I would never do that."

"I should know, and I do, because I am deeply invested in…sporting events, as normal people are," said Crane. "Normal people such as myself. It's the…um…Gotham…er…"

"You know that casino I opened?" interrupted Joker. "Now that I think about it, I picked a really great name for it. Joker's Wild. Yes sir, that 'Wild' was really the answer."

"Oh yes, of course, now I remember, the Gotham Wild…uh…" stammered Crane.

"Used to work there, and meant to be a genius," Bruce heard Joker mutter under his breath. Then Joker coughed loudly, and Bruce could distinguish the words, "Batsy's pussy."

"Gotham Wildcatwom…" began Crane, but he noticed Joker slicing his hand across his throat. "Gotham Wildcats," Crane finished, calmly. "We're the Gotham Wildcats. I say 'we' because I'm so deeply invested that I identify myself as synonymous with this particular sports team."

"Yes, and they're doing very…well this season…" began Tetch, glancing over at Joker, who frowned, shaking his head as he continued to pretend to watch TV. "I mean, very badly this season," finished Tetch. "They've been playing just terribly, and since I am also normal and therefore deeply invested in sports, this offends and angers me greatly. I think the team should…do better…with the ball…in order to…score points," he stammered.

"Of course it's the coach's fault," said Nygma, and the other two nodded in agreement. "I'm so deeply invested that I'm going to get angry about this and comment about it on social media," continued Nygma. "Which is what normal people do when something angers them. They certainly don't go out and do anything about, such as holding the coach hostage unless his team can answer a series of amusingly taxing challenges and riddles. Which is what I used to do, but certainly wouldn't anymore, since I'm normal now," he finished.

"I used to like the coin toss the best in football matches," commented Two-Face. "But not anymore. I also don't care about the even symmetry of each side, how they're an equal number of players on each team, and I'd prefer there not to be a tie, which is what I was always hoping for before I was cured. But now I hope someone actually wins the game outright. Let me know when you're going, guys, and I'll tag along, make it an even four. Not that I need things to be an even number," he added, hastily. "In fact…Croc should come along just to make it an odd number, which I can completely handle."

"That would be great," said Croc. "Of course I can't go to any games until after I finish studying, because I'm not an irresponsible person."

"What are you studying for?" asked Two-Face.

"I enrolled in an online university course," said Croc. "So that when I get outta here, I can hopefully become a useful, productive member of society. I can't decide whether to major in IT or Human Resources yet, though. What do we think?"

"I think the money's in computers," spoke up Joker. "They're the wave of the future, or so I hear."

"So…that's IT, right?" asked Croc, slowly.

"Yep," said Joker. "And a lotta guys in IT have unusual appearances, being nerds and all, so you'll fit right in."

"I kinda thought Human Resources was learning how you harvest humans and use them for things like food, but apparently it's not," said Croc. "Not that I want to eat people – the thought is revolting."

"What about you, Ivy?" asked Two-Face. "What are you gonna do if you get outta here?"

"Me? I want nothing more than to be a loving wife and mother with a family," said Ivy. "That's always been a dream of mine, a little cottage with a white picket fence, somewhere that's green. Not that I'd need plants, of course," she added, hastily. "But I just love the idea of looking after my man, taking care of him after a long day at the office, feeding my children good, healthy meals, cleaning up after them, and tucking them in to bed at night. That's the greatest reward and greatest ambition I think a woman can have. Don't you agree, Harley?"

"Nope," said Harley, flipping through a movie magazine. "I'm looking forward to the single life. I can't wait to go from man to man every night, using them for my own selfish pleasure because that's what normal, strong, independent women do. Commitment is for squares, and I missed out on so much being committed to that abusive creep. I'm gonna find me a whole buncha new men…like this beefcake here," she said, pointing at a muscular blonde man. "Break me off a piece of that, am I right?"

"Doesn't seem like your type," commented Ivy.

"He is now," said Harley. "I'm all about superficial things now, and my motto is he don't need to have a personality as long as he's got pecks. Also, I'm thinking about getting my hair done like this model. Maybe try being a brunette for a while, with blonde highlights. What do you think?"

"I think go for it," said Ivy.

"And I love these shoes," continued Harley, flipping a page in the magazine. "They're darling. And what a cute little handbag to match! Probably couldn't fit my gun in there, but I ain't gonna have a gun no more since I'm cured of all that. From now on, there's no Harley Quinn, pathetic and abused sidekick of the Joker, just Dr. Harleen Quinzel, smart, successful woman with a PhD in maneating!" she said, winking at Crane.

"Yes, we should hook up sometime, Harley," said Crane. "I hear that's what normal people sometimes do, instead of having relationships. I'd certainly be up for some casual sex."

"Sure, Professor," said Harley. "You'd probably be a lot better than the clown I was used to."

"Hey, I'm right here!" snapped Joker. "And as a normal person now, I got feelings!"

"Shame you didn't have them when we were together," commented Harley. "Oh well. I ain't going back to you, Joker, not in a million years."

"That's fine, Harley," said Joker. "The most important thing is we've treated the break up as two normal adults would, with calm rationality, and neither of us hating each other, or flying off the handle, or trying to kill each other, which we probably would have done before we were cured."

"Yeah," agreed Harley. "It sure is better to settle our differences in a mature manner. I think therapy's taught us all that, if nothing else. If we even have differences, of course, because the best thing for everyone to do is be normal, conform, and fit in. I think we can all agree on that."

Everyone voiced their agreement, and Bruce could feel the audience's patience reaching its end.

"What the hell is this?!" shouted someone.

"What a bunch of boring, normal losers!" exclaimed someone else.

"If I wanted to listen to conversations like this, I would have stayed at the office!" shouted another.

"The doctors have ruined them!" shouted another, and the murmuring of the crowd turned hostile as they all turned to face the surrounding doctors.

"Guards, escort the guests to the exit, please," said Dr. Leland, hastily, before any trouble could start.

Bruce watched as the crowd was led away, loudly demanding refunds, and then turned back to the Arkham inmates, who remained calm and collected and perfectly normal. It was actually fairly freaky.

"God, I can't imagine what horror the mayor is going to think up next, since this is obviously a bust!" exclaimed Dr. Leland. "It'll be violent provocation next, mark my words! Couldn't you all have just played along?"

"We won't, and we won't even if they turn violent," retorted Joker. "We ain't giving them that satisfaction. But good job, everyone!" he said to the room in general. "Except for you, nerd," he snapped, rounding on Crane. "Gotham Wildcatwomen?! Why would a team of guys be called the Gotham Wildcatwomen?!"

"I wasn't thinking – I'd just gone blank and was panicking!" snapped Crane. "Pretend interest in sports is a very difficult act for me to keep up, you know!"

Joker would have insulted him further when he was suddenly pounced on by Harley, who slammed him down onto the sofa and began kissing him wildly. "Puddin', I didn't mean a word of what I said, and saying that you weren't good in bed made me think about how good you actually are in bed, and I can't wait any longer!" she exclaimed, tearing at his clothes.

"I don't wanna see this, and I gotta go be sick and wash my mouth out after what I said," said Ivy, standing up and leaving the room. "Looking after my man, ugh!"

"Harley, get off!" snapped Joker, shoving her off him. "Just cool it, would ya?"

"I can't cool it – I need it!" she pleaded.

"Then hook up with Johnny, like you said," retorted Joker.

"You know I didn't mean that, puddin', and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Johnny," said Harley.

"No, no, no, you didn't," said Crane, hastily. "That was the least uncomfortable part of the whole act, in fact. But I certainly hope we don't have to do anything like this again."

"I fear Dr. Leland is right when she says it's only going to get worse," sighed Tetch. "And with the small-minded, violence is the first and only resort when things don't go their way."

"Dr. Leland, isn't there any way you can get other sources of funding?" asked Bruce. "I'd be happy to increase my contribution if it would stop accidents waiting to happen like these exhibitions."

"See, that's what I said, Bruce," said Two-Face, nodding. "You're a good guy."

"And I told Harvey, I think we cost more than one person can conceivably provide, Mr. Wayne, even you," said Dr. Leland. "Though I thank you for the offer."

"What about my corporation?" asked Bruce. "Wayne Enterprises is a multi-billion dollar conglomerate – maybe there's some way we can do business with Arkham and help fund it that way."

"How exactly?" asked Dr. Leland. "This is a hospital, not a business, Mr. Wayne. Though you wouldn't know it lately."

"You know, that's not a bad idea, Brucie," said Joker, thoughtfully. "A multi-billion dollar conglomerate could certainly help finance this place. Maybe you're not a complete idiot after all."

"Thanks," said Bruce, sarcastically. "But as to how we can do that, I'm not sure yet, Dr. Leland. Let me go into the office and look over the accounts and I'll see if I can arrange it somehow. I'll get back to you as soon as I can," he said, heading for the door.

Dr. Leland sighed, turning back to the patients. "Joker, you've got your smug smile on," she said. "Do you have an idea?"

"Maybe I do, Doc," chuckled Joker. "Maybe I do."


	7. Chapter 7

There was a knock on the door to Dr. Leland's office. "Dr. Leland, the Joker says he needs to see you," said a guard, opening the door.

"Oh…send him in," said Dr. Leland. "Joker, I suppose you're going to share this big idea of yours with me?" she asked as he entered the room.

"Nope," retorted Joker, taking a seat in front of her. "But I need to use your phone, and your office."

"For what?" asked Dr. Leland.

"A phone call," said Joker. "A private phone call."

"Who to?" asked Dr. Leland.

"A private citizen," replied Joker. "Who I cannot disclose for confidentiality reasons."

"Does this have something to do with our funding crisis?" asked Dr. Leland.

"Yes," said Joker, nodding.

"And you can't tell me what it is?" asked Dr. Leland.

"Well, I'm not sure it'll work, but if it does, you'll be the first to know," said Joker. "But I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more about it at this time, except to say that I need your phone and your office."

"Well, obviously you know I'm not allowed to leave a patient alone in my office, what with all the confidential information in my files," said Dr. Leland.

"Yep, I know you're not allowed to do that, Doc," said Joker, nodding. "And of course I wouldn't dream of asking you to do that. But the fact remains that I need the private use of this phone and this office."

She studied him, and then stood up. "I suppose the security cameras could unhelpfully glitch," she said. "And of course I would need to see to them immediately, so I know none of the inmates aren't up to anything they shouldn't be. And in all the panic and confusion, you being in here could have just…slipped my mind."

"That's possible," said Joker, nodding.

"Good. I'll probably remember you're in here in ten minutes or so," said Dr. Leland, heading for the door and shutting it, leaving Joker alone.

He picked up the telephone and dialed a number. "Hello?" said the voice on the other end.

"Hi, Lexy baby, it's me!" said Joker.

"Joker, thanks for giving me your new number to block," said Lex Luthor, about to hang up the phone.

"You do and I'll just find another phone," said Joker. "Or, failing that, head over to Metropolis myself, and I'm gonna be pretty steamed at having to go through that much effort. And you won't like me when I'm steamed, Lexy."

"I'm a busy man, Joker, and I don't have time for a lot of chit chat," snapped Luthor. "So let's make this quick."

"Oooh, you smooth talking romantic, you!" chuckled Joker. "I bet you say that to all the girls!"

"What do you want?" muttered Luthor, rubbing his temples.

"I wanted to see how you and your multi-billion dollar conglomerate are holding up," said Joker. "Still successful, I suppose?"

"Yes, we are, thanks," retorted Luthor.

"More successful than Bruce Wayne's conglomerate, do you think?" asked Joker.

Luthor snorted. "Yes, LexCorp crushes all competition, including Wayne Enterprises. The difference is one is run by an acute businessman with incredible intelligence and ruthless ambition, while the other is run by some philandering playboy idiot. Now if there's nothing else…"

"Not so fast, Lexy – boy, I hope this ain't how you treat the gals, or some of them might not call you back," said Joker. "I need you to do something for me."

"Sure, when hell freezes over," said Luthor, about to hang up the phone again.

"Now Lex, I'd be a little nicer to me if I were you, and you were in my position," said Joker. "You should always be nice to people who can make your life very unpleasant, otherwise they might not be nice to you."

"Well, your very existence makes my life unpleasant, Joker, so it's a little late for that," retorted Luthor.

"Oh, I've been very nice to you so far, Lex," said Joker. "I could be much, much worse. For instance, there's a rumor going around that you're planning a little presidential campaign in the near future."

"So?" asked Luthor. "If you think you can blackmail me with Injustice League stuff, you have to remember that it's my word against yours, a psychotic clown who's clinically insane. Nobody's going to believe you."

"Lexy, baby, I'd never accuse you of anything without proof," said Joker. "And it's not the Injustice League stuff I have proof of. It's something else. Something you did a long time ago, before you started the Injustice League, and before you became the successful man you are today. I have in my possession…certain tapes."

"Tapes?" repeated Luthor. "Tapes of what?"

"Of you in college," said Joker. "And certain extracurricular activities you might have indulged in."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Joker," retorted Luthor.

"Sure you don't, Sex Luthor," chuckled Joker.

Luthor froze as all the color suddenly drained from his face. "Where…where did you get those tapes?" he muttered.

"Oh, I never give away a source, Lex," said Joker, grinning. "But I gotta say, I was really surprised to see this side of you. Plus you had hair and all, so it's a little shocking aside from the act itself, which is actually not bad…anyway, the stuff on these tapes could ruin your chances of getting elected if they were to be made available to the general public by an anonymous source."

"What do you want in exchange for them?" demanded Luthor. "Name your price."

"I'm glad you said that, Lex," said Joker, grinning. "Because Arkham is having a little funding problem that I'm sure LexCorp can help with."

"What funding do you need?" asked Luthor.

"Well, all of it," replied Joker. "The mayor's refusing to give us any more of the city's money, so we've had to increase our reliance on private donations. Like LexCorp, who will generously pay for all the financial support Arkham Asylum needs, since Lex Luthor is such a benevolent humanitarian."

"Joker, I can't possibly give you all that money!" snapped Luthor. "Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost to run the entire asylum?!"

"Nope, but you will," said Joker. "Unless you want me to leak these tapes to a certain Miss Vale, who I know will share this information in her usual responsible and professional way. Oh sure, you can claim they're fakes, but the damage to your reputation will have been done by then, won't it? I can just see the headline now: _Metropolis's Benefactor's Dirty Money – Literally._ Naturally accompanied by a tasteful photo taken from the footage…"

"All right, damn you!" shouted Luthor. "I guess I can always go back to smuggling arms and selling secrets to the Russians to bring in money on the side, because this is going to blow a huge hole in my business!"

"Better than torpedoing your campaign before it even starts though, huh?" asked Joker. "And speaking of torpedoes, that footage was not flattering to you in terms of size. Isn't the camera meant to add ten pounds?"

"Joker, if I go through with this deal, you're destroying those tapes," snapped Luthor. "And you will never speak of them again to any living soul. As far as everyone knows, they never even existed."

"Deal," said Joker. "But I can still call you Sex Luthor, right?"

"No!" snapped Luthor.

"What about Sexy Lexy?" asked Joker.

"Goodbye, Joker," snapped Luthor, slamming down the phone.

Joker chuckled, heading back to his cell, where he found Harley waiting for him. "You look really pleased with yourself, Mr. J – does that mean we can have playtime now?" asked Harley, pleadingly.

"Sure thing, pooh bear," said Joker, kissing her. "Because I just solved all of Arkham's funding issues."

"You did? Really?" asked Harley, hopefully. "How?"

"I blackmailed Lex," said Joker. "LexCorp has got tons of money. He's gonna funnel a little of it over to Arkham, after I persuaded him, of course."

"How'd you do that?" asked Harley.

"Sex Luthor," chuckled Joker.

"Sex Luthor?" repeated Harley. "What is that, a band?"

"Nope, not a band," said Joker, grinning. "A striptease act."

"Lex used to strip?" asked Harley, incredulous.

"Well, he wasn't always rich, you know," said Joker. "He did it to help pay for college. Apparently he was pretty good at it, and it's the foundation of his fortune today. Which naturally he doesn't want anyone to know about, so he went through careful effort to eliminate anyone who might have seen his act, and destroyed all tapes of it. Or so he thought. I found copies on the black market a few years ago, paid a handsome price for them, and I've been saving them for just such an occasion when I might need Lex to do me a big, big favor."

"Well, I guess we all did stupid things in college," said Harley, shrugging. "I used to study, if you can believe it."

"It's one of the reasons why I'm so glad I can't remember who I used to be," said Joker, nodding. "There's no blackmail material out there if they don't know who you are. I probably did things when I was young and stupid too, but thank God I lost my identity."

"Have you watched the tape?" asked Harley.

"Oh yeah," said Joker, nodding. "I can show it to you when we get home, if you want. Lex didn't used to be a bad looking guy, y'know, before he went bald."

"I bet he's not as handsome as you, puddin'," purred Harley.

"Well, who is?" said Joker, shrugging. "Plus I got a lot more than him in the torpedo department, if you know what I'm saying."

"Maybe you could do a little striptease for your Harley girl," said Harley, grinning. "We could think up a stripper name for you like…the Clown Prince of Pantsless."

Joker looked at her. "You know what, Harl, I'd normally tell you that's a stupid idea and refuse your request, but I'm in such a good mood, I might just indulge you."

"Be sure to leave the bowtie until last," said Harley, settling herself on the bed. "And the gloves. And take those off with your teeth."

"Anything for a paying customer," said Joker. "You are paying me, right?"

"Of course, puddin'," said Harley, nodding. "If we've learned nothing else from this funding fiasco, it's that money makes the world go round. And gets your pants off," she said, holding up a twenty dollar bill.

"Joker, who did you call and what…" began Dr. Leland, rounding the corner. She saw the scene before her and slowly backed away. "Never mind – I'll come back later," she said, heading back to her office. "Gotta go gouge my eyes out."


	8. Chapter 8

Bruce Wayne had been in the office all day going over his company's finances when he received a call from an ecstatic Dr. Leland informing him that Arkham's financial troubles had all been solved. She said she couldn't give him any further information as yet, but there would be a public announcement by Lex Luthor at Arkham that evening. Bruce excused himself from attendance by saying he regrettably had another engagement, and then quickly went to change into the Batsuit. This time, he was almost positive, Batman would be needed.

Batman crouched on the roof of Arkham, blending in with the gargoyles, and stared down at the massive crowd which once again gathered outside the asylum. He saw Lex Luthor at the entrance to Arkham, addressing the crowd.

"As many of you know, I have always been a tireless supporter of numerous charities and private initiatives in my hometown of Metropolis. In fact, at last count, LexCorp is responsible for over half the industries and infrastructures which keep one of America's busiest cities running. But I am not a man who only looks out for his own at the cost of others. I do not build walls – I build bridges. I believe a deed can only be good if it applies to all. And now I seek to bring the same prosperity I have brought to Metropolis to Gotham City."

"Mr. Luthor, doesn't Metropolis also have Superman to thank for its prosperity?" asked Vicki Vale, raising her hand.

"Well, that's certainly a matter for debate, Vicki," retorted Luthor. "Some would say having a super-powered alien only attracts other super-powered aliens to fight him, which ultimately brings unnecessary destruction and chaos to Metropolis. But some people consider him a hero, and I won't disabuse them of their fairy tales. But please remember that while one man gets all the glory, others work behind the scenes to do the difficult, dull jobs that so-called superheroes wouldn't see as glamorous enough for them. These people are the unsung heroes who keep a busy city working, and I consider myself among them. For instance, there is no glamor or glory in running this institution," he said, gesturing at Arkham. "But when Gotham City turns its back on its most needy and vulnerable in times of crisis, I, Lex Luthor, embrace them. And in doing so, I help the people of Gotham feel safer, because they know that here, these mentally disturbed victims of society can receive the help they so sorely need. I consider it my duty and my privilege to help the less fortunate, and that is why LexCorp will be fully funding Arkham Asylum now and in the future."

A million cameras began to flash as reporters began to press him for questions. "Thank you, but that's all I have to say at this time…" began Luthor.

"Um…if you wouldn't mind, Mr. Luthor," said Dr. Leland. "One of the inmates would just like to say a few words of thanks. The Joker has prepared a little speech on behalf of us all," she said, gesturing at Joker, who smiled at Luthor.

"If he must," said Luthor, forcing a smile.

Joker cleared his throat, looking down at the piece of paper he was holding. "Mr. Luthor, I speak for the inmates and myself in extending my sincere thanks to you for coming to our aid in our hour of need. It is wonderful to see a wealthy man doing something out of the kindness of his heart, rather than in the service of his own naked ambition."

Batman heard Harley giggling, and looked down to see everyone glancing at her in confusion while she tried to stifle laughter. "This act is very revealing, and the size of your heart makes it your biggest organ by a long shot," continued Joker. "But size isn't important – it's how you use it that counts, and stripped of all the trappings of pretension, and peeling away all the layers of grandeur, this is, at its bare face, a most generous gesture which has been thrust our way."

Harley burst out laughing again, and Joker himself was struggling to control his giggles. "Thank you for…performing this role for us, who never expected to have…such incredible assets…fall into our laps!"

He began laughing hysterically, and everyone just stared at him in puzzlement except Harley, who was doubled over laughing, and Luthor, whose smile was looking increasingly more forced with every passing word.

"Uh…thank you for that, Joker," said Dr. Leland, confused. "I'm not sure we get the joke…"

"There is no joke – he's just a lunatic who laughs at nothing," interrupted Luthor. "Poor man – I certainly hope he's cured before he gets himself tragically killed in some unfortunate accident," he muttered, glaring at Joker pointedly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to return to Metropolis at once to prepare all the funding paperwork. The task ahead is very long and hard…"

Joker burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh, grow up!" shouted Luthor. "Thank you, everyone, goodnight," he said, heading over to his car while being pressed on all sides by reporters.

Batman watched the crowd gradually disperse, and then swung down, entering the asylum to see everyone dismantling the signs and the gift shop. "Batman!" exclaimed Dr. Leland, smiling. "This is a pleasant surprise! I suppose you've heard what's been going on in here?"

"Yes, and that it's over," said Batman, nodding. "Congratulations."

"Actually, we have the Joker to thank," said Dr. Leland. "He was the one who contacted LexCorp about funding us. I never would have thought of asking Lex Luthor – he never seemed that interested in anyone except himself. I guess he's a nicer guy than I gave him credit for."

"Sure," said Batman, hoping he didn't sound too sarcastic. "How are the patients handling it?"

"Well, they're absolutely overjoyed, as you might imagine," said Dr. Leland, leading him into the cell block.

Batman saw Killer Croc swimming contentedly in his cell, surrounded by the bones of dozens of chickens. Jervis Tetch was happily setting out his dishes for a tea party while reciting poetry, while Jonathan Crane was experimenting with some new chemicals. Edward Nygma sat writing down a list of riddles, while Two-Face was rearranging his cell back into a good side and bad side, both faces beaming. Poison Ivy had redecorated her cell with wall to wall plants, while Harley Quinn had redecorated hers with wall to wall pictures of the Joker. She wasn't in her cell, however – she was in the Joker's, who was still giggling to himself as he poured them both a glass of champagne.

"Batsy! Are you a sight for sore eyes!" he exclaimed. "Champagne?" he asked, holding up the bottle.

"Joker, where did you get that?" asked Dr. Leland. "Inmates aren't allowed alcohol in here."

"I don't get one perk for saving everyone's asses?" demanded Joker. "Anyway, it would be rude to refuse a gift from Mr. Luthor after what he did for us. That man just likes to give and give and give!" he chuckled.

Dr. Leland sighed. "Fine, I'll allow it this once," she said. "Just give me the bottle when you're done so I know you aren't going to use it to kill someone."

"Take all the fun outta life," sighed Joker.

"To you, puddin'," purred Harley, toasting him. "And your money maker. In both senses of the word," she giggled.

"You should have been there for the viewings, Batsy," sighed Joker. "Yours truly thought up a brilliant plan of acting normal so everyone else would riot instead of us."

"Yes, I heard," said Batman. "I also heard that the way you all acted wasn't normal by any stretch of the imagination."

"Really? You're gonna lecture us on normal behavior?" demanded Joker. "Don't make me laugh. But I will anyway."

"Honestly, I was very impressed with everyone," said Dr. Leland, to the cell block at large. "You all kept your cool under enormous pressure. And you all managed to repress your personalities, even for a very short time. If you could keep that up, little by little, gradually you might be able to repress them altogether, and then you'd be well on the road to recovery. This just proves that there is hope for all of you to eventually be cured."

There was silence. And then Ivy exclaimed, "Well, screw that!"

And everyone cheered loudly in agreement, returning to their varying bizarre and strange versions of celebrating. "Well, it was worth a try," sighed Dr. Leland. "Come on, Batman, let's leave them to it. I think they've been stared at enough to last them a lifetime."

"You can stare at me anytime you want, Bats," said Joker, winking at him. "You should have been here earlier for the Clown Prince of Pantsless's show."

"No, you really shouldn't have," said Dr. Leland, shuddering. "I probably won't be able to sleep ever again."

"I'll do a private show for you one day," said Joker, smiling at Batman. "But don't you dare tape it. I don't want someone to blackmail me like Sexy Lexy."

"You blackmailed Luthor?" asked Batman. "With what?"

"Well, the World's Greatest Detective should be able to figure it out from that speech I gave," retorted Joker. "It was chock-full of innuendos."

"I figured it out," spoke up Riddler.

"Yeah?" asked Joker.

"Yes," said Riddler, nodding. "It was so obvious. Luthor used to strip wallpaper for a living."

"And…why would that be embarrassing?" asked Joker, slowly.

"Well, such menial, manual labor is always embarrassing for those who consider themselves of a superior intellect," said Riddler, shrugging. "I know I'd certainly be embarrassed about it."

"Not as embarrassed as you would be about the thing he actually did," retorted Joker. "Not that anyone would pay you to do that because who on earth would be crazy enough to want to see that?"

"It's strip mining, isn't it?" asked Ivy.

"He built strip malls?" guessed Crane.

"I'm betting he gambled on strip poker," said Two-Face.

"Stripping paint from furniture?" asked Tetch.

"Did he work in a rock quarry?" asked Croc.

"Don't worry, Bats – you won't have to defend your World's Greatest Detective title against these morons anytime soon," sighed Joker. "Anyway, I made a promise to Lex that I'd never speak of it again, and so I won't. Explicitly," he added, grinning. "It'll be implicit in most conversations I have with him from now on, though."

"Do you have any idea what they're talking about?" asked Dr. Leland as she and Batman headed out of the cell block.

"They're insane, Dr. Leland. Most of what they say doesn't make sense," replied Batman. "Let's just count our blessings that this whole fiasco ended without anyone getting hurt."

At that moment, multiple escaped patient alarms sounded. "Yeah, it was nice while it lasted," sighed Dr. Leland, as Batman rushed off to apprehend them.

 **The End**


End file.
